


Fireplace

by aron_kristina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-03
Updated: 2010-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-13 12:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/137265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aron_kristina/pseuds/aron_kristina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for day three of the Advent Challenge at LJ. Prompt by babydracky: turkey with chestnuts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fireplace

"Would you have thought this was how you'd spend Christmas? When we were in school I mean," Marcus asks from where he's lying in front of the fire. Oliver has his head on Marcus' stomach, and he rolls it to look at Marcus.

"No. Because you used to be an ass," Oliver says, but it's a statement, not a complaint.

"Hmm," Marcus says, not really agreeing, but not disagreeing either. They're both tired, almost sluggish, from food and from spending the day, first with Oliver's family, and then Marcus'. Neither of their parents are really as supportive as one could hope, even if no one says anything outright, and keeping the peace is not the easiest thing.

"We have to remember to thank your mother later," Oliver murmurs.

"What for?" Marcus says. "She was acting like a bitch the entire evening."

"Mmm," Oliver says, and in a quick, and not very graceful move he's turned himself around so he's lying next to Marcus instead, one arm on his chest and with his face pressed to Marcus's neck. "We won't have to fix any food tomorrow."

"What?"

"She made me take leftovers while you were yelling at your dad," Oliver says, laugh evident in his voice.

"I wasn't yellin,g, Marcus says, sounding sullen.

"No, you were just having a strongly worded argument, babe," Oliver snickers. "Anyway, I have a box full of turkey, and another one with chestnuts."

"Oh, great," Marcus sighs. Oliver pokes him.

"Hey, I like your mother's cooking, and the fact that she gave it to me must mean something, right?"

"Yeah, that she thinks you're not feeding me like a proper housewife," Marcus says, and Oliver pokes him harder. The poking turns into a half-hearted wrestling match, none of them have enough energy to take it further.

"So, what are we going to do tomorrow then, if not cook?" Marcus asks, from where he's half squished under Oliver.

"Oh, I can think of a thing or two," Oliver answers.


End file.
